


Breaking Down to be Rebuilt

by SongsofSecrets



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Competition, Dominance, Emotional Baggage, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Kibana stop being a sore loser ya butt, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Rai is a human growlithe, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22536397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SongsofSecrets/pseuds/SongsofSecrets
Summary: Another loss to the Champion, another personal goal failed over and over. Raihan bottles the emotions for the media, for the sake of professionalism.However, where does he go when it breaks?Sometimes tough love can be the most effective.
Relationships: Kabu/Kibana | Raihan
Comments: 10
Kudos: 35





	1. Kibana

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! Wanted to do a little soul searching. Raihan and Kabu alike are such interesting characters to flesh out. 
> 
> Please leave feedback! I'm debating a sequel ficlet of how Raihan handles Kabu's temper when it flares...but i'll wait to see what you guys think!

“Are you finished?” Panting heavily between each word, considerable muscles holding his opponent in place. Deft fingers encircling the swanlike neck, its palm digging into the collarbones as the other hand gripped the flame embroidered towel, twisting it into thin wrists above the others’ head. The fire-type master looked steady despite the sweat streaming down his temples, damp strands of silver and black hanging down into his radiant face. 

  
  
Ninetails bristled it’s fur in anxious anticipation, standing readily close by with a vortex of dying flames around it from the last blow. Her shrewd eyes looked hard between her leading master and the man he had to physically handle after Flygon fainted from a merciless hit. 

  
  
“Raihan, _look at me_.”  Kabu said cooly, silvers eyes never leaving the younger trainer’s face. Raihan refused to look, his entire body trembling as he thrashed feebly in final attempts to wriggle free. It was to no avail. The elder huffed and clamped down his fingers around the neck without warning, the other gasping in shock— choking. It was exactly what the foolish boy needed to break. Aquamarine eyes that had slowly collected water stared agape at the shiver-inducing bladed pair glaring down at him. 

  
  
“M-M— Kabu—” Raihan cracked before that collected pool broke into a stream down the corners of his eyes. The blood restricting binds on his wrists were set free, the grasp on his neck vanished as Kabu went to sit up on his hanches.  Just as the Motostoke leader proceeded to lean back to stand did Raihan sit up quickly desperately grasping at the scarlet uniform. 

  
  
Ninetails instantly barked and was set to lunge her master’s attacker before a harsh “Retreat, Ninetails! ”echoed the vacant stadium. Ears pinned back she obeyed watching the opposing human claw their paws around her human’s form. 

  
  
The Dragon-type master had sat up so fast, the smaller man had toppled back into his lap Raihan's nails clung to the back of the uniform. His arms constricted the man until the heated body was pressed against his face as his own body curled into itself. He felt childish— _Weak..._ _The great Raihan, the one who still rivals Leon the Champion_. The very Champion that crushed his team into the terrain of the battlefield _again_ and _again_. “I-I’m *hic* I— Sorry! ”He hiccupped, drenching the Motostoke uniform. The body he wound around eased, feeling that soft towel wind around his neck along with an arm. A nose gently nuzzled into his disheveled hair. The styled spikes of a mohawk were frayed and split into loose softer stands. 

  
  
Kabu chuckled softly, his unoccupied hand trailing the sharp jawline down to Raihan’s chin. “Such a pup,” he mused quietly before pulling away to look down at him, as he has many times. He tugged the chin to elevate, bleary blue eyes looking up pitifully up at him _like a growlithe who had bit it’s master recklessly_. That was the exact temperament Kabu would compare Raihan to when it came to losing. He would get himself so confident, so sure he had it in the bag. Carefully composed on media after a loss and a humble acceptance on the field only to release all the furled confusion and pent-up frustration the moment the cameras turn away.   
  
_So stubborn to be the best, so hard-headed at times_…begging to be put back into place with an unstoppable force to ground him.   
  
“Don’t call me that” He overheard Raihan snivel, tears still soaking his cheeks but now a tinted blush bubbled on his cheeks. A single brow arched and the Fire-type master smirked, “Then stop acting like one. You have been a gym leader long enough now to learn where there are victories, there are also losses.” 

  
“I just... argh! ” Raihan groan with a hiccup, “What being do I have to worship just to have a chance at beating Leon?”   
  
  
“Well, I can assure you it is not me, but I can promise you this…” Kabu drawled quietly, tilting his head just so, their nose grazing “Champion is only a title. Another goal, benchmark, just like being bestowed your own gym.”

  
  
He paused to earnestly press an intimate kiss to the once fang barring mouth. It was so haunting how Raihan could be such a direct reflection of himself at that age. 

  
  
“But— ”   
  
“But Leon is your rival? No.” The Motostoke leader’s tone flat, lips talking wistfully against Raihan’s. 

  
  
_There it is_, that transition of ultimate defeat churning into key consideration. _That furrow of the brow, aquamarine darkening by a hue or two—_ _an ember ignited_. “No?” He echoed, the needy fingers digging into Kabu’s shoulderblades relaxed, palms flat now encasing him. 

  
  
“No. Leon is a driving force; you can not reach a goal without motivation, a driving force to combat against—” 

  
  
“To better myself!” Raihan shoved in before the fire-type could finish. Kabu only smiled knowingly before he was smothered in kisses and praises of his wisdom. All he could implement was a gentle chuckle and reciprocate the affection, his own praises choice to coming down so gingerly this time. The last time he recalled he practically got into a fistfight with the youth. Hammerlockestadium required emergency Drednaw's and Nessa’s team to put out the flames that incinerated the inside. To this day Nessa still had no idea what occurred, but more than willingly turned a blind eye to it thankfully. 

  
  
“So then... What is your motivation— your drive, Hibana?” 


	2. Kabu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow thank you all! I will say this one is longer than the previous one. I could write out Kabu's characterization all day and still feel like I haven't done enough. He has more flare than you think~

The ground rumbled from a roaring crowd, scorch marks and dampened watermarks littered the field. His body swayed uneasily, stomach churning with forgotten emotions— those he bound and gagged years ago to maintain a humble persona for the youthful bright-eyed trainers. With a wavering look around the chanting crowd, the Motostoke leader collapsed to his knees. The graveled terrain dug into his knees with piercing pain from the rubble. In the corner of his eye, he could see a familiar figure taller than anyone in the crowd, jumping up from his seat in distressed alarm. Silver eyes squeezed shut as he lurched over, hands grounding himself steady— breathing ragged from such an overwhelming battle. 

_ ‘Two...not one...two stood victorious— back to back!’ _

The wicked thought echoed harshly in his head never ceased. One trainer earning themselves the passage onwards once a day during the trial season? _Good on them_. That was expected, but this? This was uncommon, an anomaly. Two rolling punches mercilessly and choicely picked by the Champion himself…

“Deep breaths” Kabu uttered to himself, sucking in raw air through gritted teeth. The winner deserved his congratulations, and this wasn’t the time to lose composure. 

That night Motostoke shut down early. Most assumed it had been to clean up after the terrific battles that had taken place that day. There were many losses to be had, but there were, in addition, the two trainers who earned a delightful dinner in celebration for passing. Raihan had received an invitation to join, and it was tempting if Leon was paying. However, stopping in front of the stadium, the lights out and metal shudders over the windows sealing it closed he couldn’t help but linger. 

“I wonder if he’s okay…” He murmured to himself quietly, the torkoal at his feet rumbled a dull noise of discontentment. A small smirk of silent reassurance tugged on the dragon-trainers face, crouching down to pap the turtle-like creature's head. “You’re worried too huh, mate? Your friend took a hard soaking with that drizzile…” 

  
  


That was excuse enough for him, rising up from his haunches to walk around the back of the stadium. He saw relieved that Leon’s appearance in town drove the media and majority of the town elsewhere, otherwise it would be difficult to slip into Motostoke unannounced. With a turn of a key, he slipped into the small exit from the gym with torkoal at ease. Thank Kabu for providing a key for various private matches... _and perhaps social calls_. The back room was warm—it was searing! It felt like being trapped in an iron room while Sunny Day was thrown. 

Raihan had seen Kabu angry, pissed, agitated, upset, defeated...all of the above were deadly considering he was ordinarily a very calm, calculated man. As Raihan recalled, he wasn’t always the composed man he is today. No, even Melony had shared a few mishaps that inevitably occurred during battles they shared in her Gym. Something with the ice melting to the point she had to shut down the Gym for a month. 

_Hell_ , even his own disagreements and spats with the fire-type master could turn heated, but their haughty tempers flared from the same embers. The petty arguments were equaling in stubbornness as Raihan never backed down on a battle, period. Sure they've impulsively thrown fists and he got his ass handed to him by the older man, _but hey! it happens_. Still, though… he hadn’t witnessed him that suppressed on the ground to hide it since...Well, since he was a kid— a trainer himself watching the fresh new burning man of fire on the telly!

Torkoal led the way up a set of stairs leading into the main gym field, the raw sounds of roaring flames searing across the fortified walls could be heard. A flinch escaped him, grinding through scenarios in his mind to simmer the old fireball down, Goodra's Pokeball stuffed in his pocket just in case. Just as he reached the door, the other side became deafeningly quiet. No barks, commands or sounds of ignited fire-type moves. Torkoal headbutted the door in desperate urgency as Raihan hesitated for a moment, swallowing with difficulty the lump in his throat before he opened the door into the arena, 

“Mr.Kabu?...” he said unsteadily with anxious curiosity, head poking in through the door as Torkoal burst right in with purpose. It was frantically searching for something and producing soft noises until a similar noise reciprocated. 

A faint smile graced his face to the two turtle-type pokemon instantly circling the poking at each other, his own in particular examining the other. A familiar growl echoed the arena as he stepped down into the field, carefully tearing his attention away from the Torkoals. He halted instantly at the dismal sight before him, still meters away. 

  
  


There he was, the legendary man of ever-burning fire, he sat tiredly on the ground, legs propped up with his forearms crossed over them. His forehead rested on his arms, concealing his face as he heaved for air. The outfit from the match was still on save for the iconic Motostoke gym uniform, leaving a well-toned torso to shine with a sheen of sweat. Mixing it with the black and red compression sleeves, it was a sight to behold any other day. Today, however, he looked like a slain hero— _vulnerable_. The scars of burns he loved to touch and marvel now looked morbid to him as sweat contrasted every dent and divot they malformed into the flesh.

They were almost as horrific as the ever-loyal Ninetails that stood guard next to him, fangs bared threateningly to take a step closer. The cream color fur bristled, a small vortex of sparks lapping around her paws as if she were preparing to attack.  Gradually, a hand reached in his pocket in preparation to summon Goodra. “Hi—Hibana…” Raihan piped up shakily, hoping the man would raise his head and take notice of the situation. A sharp bark came from the Ninetails and without warning a shrill yelp of surprise came from the intelligent creature as it suddenly retreated into its ultra ball. The exposed hand that held it trembled slightly before that steely glare stared in Raihan's direction. 

“I am afraid the Gym is closed.” 

Peppered locks of charcoal and silver hung in the fire-type master's face, sweat and perhaps even a hint of tears seeping down the hang under his chin. His eyes were slightly puffy, and he looked beyond exhausted. 

“I— I’m not here for the gym” Raihan spoke carefully, edging his way to Kabu, who remained shielded in his expression. There was a crack then, a furrow of the brow with eye contact torn away. He promptly took the daring plunge and crouched down, crawling forward to burst the man's personal bubble. Their height difference solemnly made Kabu seem all the more helpless, pitifully sitting in the middle of the blazing arena around them. Raihan’s instinct by heart was to envelop the ragged man, engulf him in his hoodie and shelter him from the world. _That was what dragons did after all, right? Hoard their sacred treasures from anyone who dared to try to take it from them...or harm._

However, he knew better. Even in his usual mild moods, Kabu was not used to such suffocating acts of affection. The dragon trainer sat on his calves politely, Kabu taught him it, it was called Seiza or something like that. It was customary in Hoenn and if the Motostoke leader was going to take him there to see the Institute of weather condition TMs for Pokemon; he wanted to learn as not to embarrass the man— well, not unintentionally at least. So he sat there beaming at Kabu, like an eager pup waiting for its master to give the okay. 

After what felt like forever Kabu looked back at him with a puff of flames floating up and away from the corners of his eyes. He trembled slightly but nodded his head, and Raihan practically hurled him over, colliding into him to encase the smaller man in his arms and long lanky legs scooting him as close as he possibly could. They remained propped up as well, caging Kabu in Rainhan’s grasp. Palms flat against the fire-leaders back, he could feel the skin emitting boiling heat. The elder quivered, sweat-soaked hair thumped defeatedly into Raihan's chest, his eyes squeezing shut as he deliberately began to to allow himself to fall apart. Violently he shuddered and pressed more profoundly into the dragon-trainer. One hand grasping at the white tassels of the hoodie as the other palm gripped his thigh, nails embedding themselves shakingly. 

Raihan’s head dipped down to rest atop Kabu's, cooing gentle hushes. His frame relaxed, melding into the other in hopes it would calm the long-serving leader down. A stillness settled between them and witnessing his idol, friend, crush and whatever they were present in such a fragile state tormented him. He understood the emotional frustration at an overwhelming loss and when the only person worth criticizing was yourself... _Yeah_ , he knew that all too well. It was toxic and many reasons why he would merely shut his rotom off and have flygon bluster up a sandstorm to receive personal tranquility once more. 

“Kiba” He heard the elder mumbled after a while, his tone tremored through hushed snivels “Why is it you are here?” 

“Eh? What do ya' mean?” Raihan chirped quietly, nuzzling at the man’s temple his pointed nose. “I can’t just go to a dinner Leon invited me to without my date. He would accuse me of doing something wrong and have me on blast! Besides, Torkoal was worried after the match with that drizzile..."

“I see—” 

“Oh don’t you be like that; I was worried sick about you too birdie! I was ready to leap out onto the field if it weren’t for the media everywhere. So I held back and paced Motostoke until the crowds cleared. Seeing Motostoke going under lockdown early didn’t help the pacing part I'm just sayin'.” 

A quiet chuckle escaped the fire-type master, making a smile tug on Raihan’s mouth. He bent his head down to press a light kiss on Kabu’s dusted pink cheek. Raising his head, Kabu tilted it just so to catch Raihan’s lips with his own. It was soft, featherlike unlike their usual heated sessions of teeth clashing and heated pants of passion. The Hammerlocke leader hummed into the kiss lightly, his palms sliding along the scars of the others back, tracing a few here and there. 

“Hey” Raihan whispered softly, parting their lips to look down at the bloodshot, puffy eyes gazing up soundlessly. Hands sliding away he placed one on each tear-drenched cheek. They were dappled in various hues of flush that popped off his pale skin. 

“You didn’t fail yourself nor anyone. Those two trainers had heart, that’s something many don’t possess with their Pokémon anymore. You should be proud to see that in kids these days. It was you who gave me that tip when flygon was a cute, stumpy trapinch!” 

Kabu sighed and gave a smirk, “I did, huh? Are You trying to make me out as old?”

“ **What** — No! Never! Shit, You would have my ass to the floor faster than I can even blink. I just...I don't want you to take it out on yourself...if anything lay it out on me." Raihan sighed admittedly having to look elsewhere.

"—I love seeing that spark in you again…That's what always drew me to you as a kid and still today. That passion...It’s uhh..heh kinda feral~” The dragon-trainer snickered with a wink. The Motostoke leader scoffed following with a hearty laugh and shove. Bantering back with a teasing tilt of his head he mocked “were the bleeding marks down your back not enough to prove that, Kiba?”

Raihan's ears reddened instantly before it oozed across his cheeks stammering dumbly to find a comeback. Instead, all he could do was laugh and ruffle the monochrome hued hair of the seasoned trainer. In retaliation Kabu was swift to yank the younger man's headband over his head, blinding his sights to sit up and surprise him with another kiss. Raihan snickered and obediently obliged, his fang nipping at the fire leaders' plush bottom lip. 

“If it's sparks you really want, I have more than plenty to set off” Kabu purred, fixing Raihan’s headband while Raihan slicked the disheveled hair back, combing his thin fingers through the locks of greying black. 

“Mmmm, maybe I can _light a few_ in the showers.” 

“The Showers?”

“Of course your more soot and sweat than anything right now. Plus, I'd like to have a taste of an appetizer. **_I’m a growing boy after all_** ~!” The Hammerlock said with a mischievous glint shimmer in his eye.

Kabu rolled his eyes, “Alright, **sport**.” 

Raihan crinkled his nose in reaction, “don’t say that, that’s...that’s…”

“—like that one time you _insisted_ on calling me Daddy, Kiba-kun?” 

A smug smirk was on Kabu’s face with a raised eyebrow, his arms now folding across his chest eyes boring into the aquamarine pair. He felt Raihan squirm and suddenly he felt himself being scooped up into the taller man's arms. 

“Gah! L-let’s not talk about that! Come on, we are going to miss Dinner at this rate and now I'm _Hangry_!”

“You... _what_?”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hibana = Sparks in Japanese. A little HC I have that Raihan calls Kabu affectionately.


End file.
